Falling in Reverse
by InzanityFirez
Summary: Six years after the events of Days of Future Past, Xavier's School for the Gifted is flourishing and things are surprisingly, pleasantly peaceful. Until an unexpected visitor in the form of Erik collapses on Charles' doorstep, in need of help. He's made some nasty enemies, and unfortunately, he's not the only one.


**So, I saw X-Men Days of Future Past and my feels were too much. And I now ship CharlesxErik bromance. I could go for slash too, but the bromance is just so...cute. SO! Haven't entirely mapped this out. But expect cameos. And villains. And not-so-villains. Maybe we'll see some LoganxVictor because their bromance is win. And Liev Schreiber is boss. I digress. MystiquexBeast? Hmm. XD Anyway! Couldn't find canon ages for CharlesxErik, so we'll go with Erik being the older. Cute dynamic either way, but yes. And if something seems like shaky canon, don't shoot me. There's too many canons. I can't do them all. XD Primarily movie canon, but with other snippets as needed. Enjoy!~**

**~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~**

_Poland, 1940's_

The room was a clutter of metal debris and destroyed furniture, at the center of which stood a stoic boy who gazed at the reflective two-way window impassively. Or almost. But by now, Sebastian Shaw had learned to read the little mutant well, during their more intimate moments when he tortured the boy within an inch of his existence. The expression was cold, but the eyes were full of hate. It was fantastic, because it fueled the youth's powers.

"How is our little experiment progressing?" Shaw asked as he gazed at his favorite test subject. The metal debris wasn't enough to break through their specially crafted cell for him, particularly while his powers were still developing.

"His powers continue to increase every day...as do his violent tendencies."

"Ah, yes, he's killed a few nobodies, hasn't he?"

If the other man was offended or disturbed by his callousness, he knew better than to let Shaw see it. "Two...two more were merely injured."

"Any of it intentional?"

"Two were accidental, two were intentional..."

"Hm. Puts it at a tie. Can't have that. I want to know if he's ready for the next phase, or if he's still too weak." Shaw considered it and then motioned the man away. "Go find someone stupid. Send them in with a bowl of brussel sprouts and instruct them to force the boy to eat them if they have to."

"Brussel sprouts, sir?"

"He hates them, you see. If he kills the man rather than eat them, then we'll know he's made progress."

Later, the room was a clutter of metal debris and destroyed furniture, at the center of which stood a stoic boy with a broken bowl and a dead body at his feet.

"And stupid makes three." Shaw said, pleased as punch.

...

_New York, 1979 _

"Hey, look out!" Someone called as a pot was knocked over from a balcony over head. It was on a collision course with a girl's head, until a blast of water from a nearby fountain caused it to sail off in the distance. The girl, who'd been prepared to knock it away with a little gust of wind, flashed her 'savior' a smile.

On the basketball court, a few teens played an increasingly frantic game. The ball whizzed through the air, up until the point it rolled to the feet of a lanky boy who kicked it so hard it popped.

"Aw, man! Why'd you do that?"

"Sorry!" The boy called out, until his friend waved a dismissive hand and headed to the ball remains.

He squeezed them in his hands until the ball was a mass of rubber, and then expanded his hands so that the ball reformed, good as new. "Mind if we play?"

"You fixed our ball! Get your butts over here!" All was forgiven as they ran over laughing to join the game.

Under a tree, a pair of preteens were getting a little up close and personal time. The girl's hair began to stick out wildly as the other's static abilities piqued in lieu of a kiss, while the girl's skin began to change colors like a chameleon, flashing red and pink, and then a startled blue as a teacher formed an invisible wall between them to separate them suddenly.

"If you've got time for that, you've got time to do your homework." The teacher said sternly as the embarrassed pair gave their apologies and made a run for it, to the amusement of their teacher.

...

Charles Xavier from his vantage by a window on the upper floor, gazed down at the scene with a fond smile. Six years had passed since they had literally changed history, and the school was once again a bustling paradise for gifted students. Gone were the days when he couldn't sleep, wracked with guilt and pain. He had something to live for again; surrounded by the students and teachers he loved like family, with a job he considered a blessing, and an adopted sister who now visited him regularly. Charles would have preferred that Raven move in with them, but she had declined. Even so, she had her own room that would always remain waiting for her.

"You look happy, Professor." came an amused, friendly voice.

Charles adjusted his wheel chair to shoot a smile at Hank McCoy as the man entered and took a seat across from Charles. Six years had been kind to him. His awkward boy hood had been left behind to turn him into a strong, apparently charming [if the snippets of gossip he caught from some his female students and teased Hank about relentlessly] were any indication, young man. He taught science and while he stook took the serum to appear human, he was much more comfortable with his Beast's form as well.

"My students are happy. How can I not be?"

Hank, even after six years, still had a habit of shooting him a grateful, wistful smile. Apparently the memory of the broken man Charles had been still hung somewhere in the back of his mind, and he was always gladdened [relieved, perhaps] to see Charles lively again.

"You'd make a good greeting card, Professor. Hallmark on wheels." Logan commented gruffly from the door. Charles appreciated Logan's growth over the past six years, he was even comfortable making jokes with them now.

Raven had fished him out of the ocean, and after a rocky start and a bit of Logan storming in and out of the place, Logan had opted to root at the institute as a history teacher. The man didn't deal with people well, he didn't exactly have the temperament or mental organization to be a teacher...and yet, [despite how intimidated his students all were initially] 'Wolverine' had become among the favored teachers of the school. 'Cool' as the kids called it these days.

Logan remembered nothing of the future, because he was not the Logan of the future. Charles had had to remind himself of that, and he had instructed Hank and Raven not to mention their shared history. But Charles remembered: he remembered the memories of Logan's life in that other reality, the immense torture and loneliness, the lost man he'd become. He wanted to spare Logan that, and he had managed to so far. Stryker hadn't gotten his hands on Logan, and Charles felt that the lack of adamantium-infused bones was a small price to pay for having his mind and inner peace relatively in tact.

"Would I?" Charles drawled. His appearance had changed as well. Charles had kept his long hair, although he often tied it back a bit these days. He'd kept a light beard and mustache-properly groomed now though, and tended to wear slacks and white-long sleeves as 'Professor X'. But every now and then, Charles of the old days, the womanizer and jokester would rear his head. [Woe to Logan, who had found himself the unwilling and suprisingly patient victim of being Charles' wingman a few times]. [Hank knew better]. "Perhaps I should enlist you as my messenger, then. They'd be singing greeting cards, of course."

Hank snorted at the thought of Logan pulling a singing telegram, and Logan shot him a narrow-eyed look that lacked his former near-constant irritation. Now he seemed amused, and even a bit fond. He would never say so, but Charles knew Logan had found a family in them as much as they had in each other. And in particular for Charles and Hank, who had spent time with the Logan of the future, he was...special. For lack of a better term.

"Hank would look better in those little shorts. But I could be there to back him up. By laughing my a** off."

"Well, thank you, Logan." Hank drawled, and Charles laughed.

"Excuse me, Professor? Professors." The girl corrected as she took in the occupants of the room. The hazelnut-skinned albino regarded them with bright, intelligent eyes that belied her twelve-year old youth. She was one of their newer students, Ororo, although she much preferred her mutant name: Storm. "There's someone at the door to speak with you, Professor." she said, as she addressed Charles. "He's all covered up, and I think he might be hurt."

All of the 'professors' exchanged a quick glance and Charles spared enough time to say, "Thank you, Storm. I'll go greet them." Before he headed out, followed by Logan and Hank.

Logan's hands were clenched at his sides, and it was clear that he was ready to pull out his claws at any moment. His less volatile attitude didn't mean that _everything_ about him had changed.

Hank wasn't blue in the face yet, so to speak, but he was ready for anything and kept close to the Professor's side protectively.

The door, as they reached it, had been closed and Charles let himself scout ahead mentally to see what sorts of thoughts he might find. Hank opened the door just as Charles received a flurry of thoughts just at the surface of the mind he'd just brushed. He didn't like to barge into people's minds, to use his powers on them without permission. A normal guest, he might not have bothered even to brush, but Storm's description had concerned him. The thoughts mostly involved pain, because apparently the fellow had received a nasty cut to his side that was bleeding and would likely require stitches. That aside was the repetition of something along the lines of 'Have to get to Charles', like a mantra. Charles deduced the the fellow was in a bad state, and had pushed himself to reach the school and by extension, Charles.

"Hank, he's bleeding, we need to get him inside." He hadn't felt any sort of threat or ill will from the other, and although he was completely wrapped up as Storm had said, Charles wasn't concerned. The preservation of life, especially one he'd seen no threat from, took precedence.

The fellow took a shaky step back as if to move away from Hank and the prospect of being ushered in. "You might...want to see who I am...before you decide to let me in." The voice halted a bit, and Charles wondered just how long this man had pushed to reach him. But more pressing was how familiar the muffled voice was.

He was bundled from head to toe, and he removed the scarf and beanie that had obscured his face. A familiar face, albeit about ten years younger than it ought to have been. There was a little trickle of dried blood on his head as well, and it suggested a head wound.

Charles' eyes widened. "Erik?"

Erik swayed on his feet, and gave Charles a mirthless smile. "In a...manner of speaking...I...need your help, Charles..."

Charles stared, momentarily dumbfounded which was a rare state for him. But before he could speak or reply, Erik's knees suddenly buckled as he collapsed unconscious. "Erik!" Surprise, the strange situation, their twisted shared history, everything became back ground noise for the moment as concern and instinct took over. "Hank-"

Hank, who had seemed equally stunned, had already anticipated Charles' request and hauled the unconscious Erik up as gently as he could. [More or less].

"Someone wanna fill me in?" Logan asked, and his hands were still poised defensively, in case whatever had got the young man was still lurking about.

The same thing had occurred to Charles, hence his next order. "He's...an old friend. Or sorts. It's not the time, Logan, gather the students into the hall. I believe Tara is already out there, have her assist you and patrol the grounds." Charles ordered.

Even after -finally- 'joining' the school [his coming in and out like he owned the place not counting], Logan hadn't taken kindly to orders. He still didn't, really, but in times like this he didn't bat and eye and Charles appreciated what that said about his character. Logan really was a softie at heart.

He was also potentially an unholy terror, but not towards them, which was what counted.

"Got it." Logan headed off as Charles followed Hank towards the medical wing.

"I don't understand how this happened." Hank said as they walked, and he carried the unconscious and younger Erik Lensherr in his arms. "He's...he's gotten younger? Did you read him at all?"

"Just a brush, nothing clear. He was in a great deal of pain, it distracted him." Charles said, rather distractedly himself.

Six years without a word or glimpse of 'Erik' or 'Magneto'. He suspected that Erik had found a way to shield himself without the helmet, because Cerebro couldn't locate him. Charles had actually been a little worried for the other's safety, but in the end, as Logan had once said: he was a survivor.

And now he was here, and apparently he needed Charles' help.

Six years and the events that altered time [as well as meeting his sagely future self] had gone a long way towards healing old wounds and giving him new understanding. Charles was a better man for it, but he wasn't without flaws, and he hadn't exactly _forgiven_ Erik. He had nearly killed Raven, destroyed them all, he had let his desires and his prejudices and his hatred rule him. He was a dangerous man. And he had betrayed Charles time and again.

That being said, he was also dear to Charles and as with Raven, as his future self suggested, he allowed himself _hope_. Hope that he could change, and be guided, and find the good man that Charles knew was buried beneath all that hate and rage. His best friend.

As they reached the medical wing and the nurse spurred into action after a quick, "I'll explain later," from Hank, Charles was able to see Erik's state and his injuries in greater detail. He was younger, that much was certain, and he seemed a little slight even for that. As if he hadn't eaten much or taken care of himself well. There was a gash on the side of his head, and a deep cut on his side, along with a few bruises and what seemed to be recent cuts and scrapes scattered about. Just what had happened to him?

"Give him two doses of the strongest sedative you have." Charles ordered the nurse.

She frowned. "No disrespect, Professor, but that wouldn't be a good idea. I wouldn't even give my strongest sedative to this young man." she experimentally pressed the wound at his side to gauge it's depth, and unconscious or not, a stab of pain was a stab of pain.

Erik lashed out with his powers unconsciously, and a few sharp, metal instruments sailed through the air as two tables and a light fixture fell. Hank dodged a table with a yelp of surprise. The woman was spared an instrument in the face by a quick bit of power from Charles, who 'froze' time for long enough to knock the thing aside. When it was finished, the nurse was wide-eyed and pale, and Charles said firmly. "Two doses. Now."

Before Erik took the bloody school apart.

**~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~.~**

**I like this. : D That was fun to write. I checked the list of teachers for the school, most of them are in the future. We saw a little Storm. Jane Grey doesn't come in for a few more years, that would go for Scott and some of the others as well. I threw in Tara Crenshaw who isn't canon [the teacher who used the force field wall on the kids], and of course we all know Logan and Hank. Mmm. I have some more firm plans now. An idea for how this is going to work out. And Erik's suffering [and the rest of their sufferings] (bwahaha) are far from over. But Erik's got it the worst right now, it's going to get worse. Muwahaha. Anyway, I digress. Reviews are like verbal hugs. Thank you! Enjoy!~Witchy~ **


End file.
